


Love can be as simple as we want it to be

by neomints



Series: In our own sweet way [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (its kita), Established Relationship, M/M, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Other, Polyamory, Timeskip, both of those are Kinda its not a formal relationship but it is romantic in nature, ushijima loves his partners and they all play boardgames The Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:54:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26241481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neomints/pseuds/neomints
Summary: After all, who is he to refuse when Oikawa oh so sweetly asks for Ushijima’s pajama shirt right off his back, hands untightening the muscles of his biceps and lips ghosting his cheek? Who is he to refuse when Sakusa, usually so incredibly reserved when it comes to sharing, asks to borrow one of Ushijima’s shorts when the weather proves too hot for Sakusa’s own cotton ones? Who is he to refuse when Kita walks out of his room, dressed from head to toe in Ushijima’s old Shiratorizawa memorabilia?—Ushijima is in a kind of romantic relationship with Kita, Oikawa, and Sakusa. The four of them play a board-game, and Ushijima is gay.
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Oikawa Tooru/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Series: In our own sweet way [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917961
Comments: 5
Kudos: 62





	Love can be as simple as we want it to be

**Author's Note:**

> I’d write a formal dedication, but I think it’s obvious who this is for really. Instead I’ll say thank you, for making things simple, and filling my world with color. I’ll cherish it however long it lasts.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“Ushiwaka-chan, Kiyo-chan’s being a bitch to me!!”

“Don’t listen to him Wakatoshi all I did was tell him to stop fiddling with the coin pieces and getting his germs everywhere.”

“Now, now, it’s ‘yer turn, Tooru.” 

Ushijima watches as Oikawa bites at the nail on his ring finger. After a minute of careful deliberation he moves his player piece three steps to the right, collects new ore and then begins an expedition. Sakusa makes a soft _tch_ noise, eyes narrowing over towards Oikawa behind damp bangs. Kita’s serene expression never once changes throughout Oikawa’s turn, but they do wordlessly offer Ushijima a refill of green tea. 

It’s a nice, quiet, day. They’re all sitting on the carefully and newly waxed wooden floors of Kita’s farmhouse, various board-game pieces carefully, precariously, haphazardly and systematically placed in four different piles around them. 

To Sakusa’s dismay Oikawa had decided he’d be the one to manage the bank this game. Though the former was reassured time and time again that yes, Oikawa has washed and sanitized _and_ moisturized his perfectly manicured (and imperfectly bitten) hands, it still visibly makes him feel a certain sense of uncertainty watching Oikawa nervously fiddle with the game pieces in his hands. To offset this, Ushijima lets Sakusa rearrange his game pieces however he pleases, leaving two separate but equally beautifully sets of organized piles of faux wood. Across from them Oikawa builds small towers of various shapes and colors. To the right, Kita collects the pieces in groups of four.

Groups of four. Ushijima’s eyes glance over each of the people seated around the little table, each in borrowed pajamas. Borrowed that is, mainly from Ushijima himself. 

After all, who is he to refuse when Oikawa oh so sweetly asks for Ushijima’s pajama shirt right off his back, hands untightening the muscles of his biceps and lips ghosting his cheek? Who is he to refuse when Sakusa, usually so incredibly reserved when it comes to sharing, asks to borrow one of Ushijima’s shorts when the weather proves too hot for Sakusa’s own cotton ones? Who is he to refuse when Kita walks out of his room, dressed from head to toe in Ushijima’s old Shiratorizawa memorabilia? 

His room, because by now that guest room is clearly his.

Sakusa buys an extension to his farmland at the second cheapest price. He’s put Oikawa in a difficult position, and Ushijima is finding it hard to figure out what his next moves might be. Sakusa senses this and gives Ushijima a smirk. It’s a wordless challenge. it makes a fire burn in Ushijima’s gut, and Kita giggles as though they can see the feeling written across Ushijima’s face.

“No fair!” Oikawa exclaims, stuffing his cheeks with rice crackers in a way that only he can make seem so endearing. “There’s no way you would’ve been able to get that card if Kita hadn’t made that shitty move two turns ago. Are you guys in kahoots?”

“I do not believe they are,” Ushijima points out, “it would be difficult to orchestrate a series of events as convoluted purely to allow them both to buy the field upgrade earlier.”

The statement only works to make Oikawa’s face redder, and Sakusa takes the chance to rile him up further. Ushijima can’t help but look at Kita then, and Kita looks back at him with a certain level of fondness that makes his chest feel light and airy.

“Ah,” Ushijima looks down at the board, “perhaps I was wrong.”

“What?” Oikawa looks back up at Ushijima as though he’d just told the man the martians from their last movie marathon were no more than hamsters in wetsuits. “What do you-“ the moment realization dawns on Oikawa’s face, both Sakusa and Kita erupt into laughter, “oh, motherfucker-!”

Before them laid the perfect long game, in one move Kita had swayed the tides near-perfectly, placing both themself and Sakusa in the double digit score long before either other party could manage. Kita simply relished in the victory, eyes closed and chest heaving with giggles. They looked beautiful like that, and so did Sakusa, with his half genuine smirk and his chin pillowed in his hand.

Oikawa collapses backwards with an agonized grunt, and Ushijima thinks that he looks beautiful too.

“We were both bested, Oikawa, do not take it to heart.” 

Ushijima moves to pour himself and Sakusa some tea, only to realize they’ve run out. The snacks which were once in the common area and which now belonged mainly to both Kita and Oikawa were running dangerously low too. Ushijima stands up, picks up the kettle with both hands and walks towards Oikawa. 

“There are still more turns left,” Ushijima says, softly nudging his foot into Oikawa’s shoulder, “you aren’t giving up like that, are you?” 

The question works like a charm. Oikawa sits back up and reassesses his losses in record time. The autumn wind blows from the open doors and gently ruffles his hair. Kita closes their eyes and enjoys the freshness of it.

“You do know you’ve made it near impossible for you to win, don’t you Kiyo-chan?” Oikawa’s playful voice barely hides the fire in his eyes. 

Sakusa bites back with the same fire in his own. He chuckles, picks at a loose thread on Ushijima’s pajama pants and looks directly into Oikawa’s eyes, “you should know I hate people who aren’t prepared.”

Across from them Kita giggles, and maybe it’s the lack of fire in their eyes that makes them so formidable. “Let’s all try n’ have fun, mmkay?”

There’s something about working with their voices in the background that makes things a little kinder, more surreal. It makes Ushijima’s steps feel lighter, his touches feel softer. It makes the air in his lungs a little sweeter no matter what he does. He shuffles through Kita’s cabinets and finds the green tea, places it in the UFO shaped steeper Oikawa had given Ushijima, which had somehow ended up here. With the kettle on the stove he then wipes down the tea leaves which had fallen onto the counter. 

In the corner he can vaguely make out Kita taunting Sakusa, and Oikawa joining in. Ushijima’s mouth twitches and his face warms. It’s a blessing, he thinks, that all three of them are here. Truth be told, there’s no reason for any of them to know one another aside from Ushijima’s own selfish desire.

He loves them, each and every one, the same and different. The dynamics between the three of them vary, though Ushijima knows it isn’t quite of the romantic variety, and that’s okay. 

Truth be told, it’s not like any of them are officially Ushijima’s to have. Some of them have their own partners too, Kita and his Aran to name one, but that doesn’t mean they have _nothing_.

Ushijima turns off the stove, watching as Sakusa defends himself against a small onslaught of thrown popcorn.

Not one of these three can call Ushijima their boyfriend, but that’s not to say they don’t love him. Sure, it’s not conventional, but it works even if only for now. It works, and it’s warm. It works, and it feels good.

It feels like the decade between him and Oikawa, the way the Argentinian winds have brought them back together as though by fate. It feels like misunderstandings steeped in waters of genuine respect and admiration. Chances missed over and over and over, only to finally hit when it counts.

It feels like the instant between him and Sakusa, stretching out between them like the distance between a spike and a receive. The kind of spins that only align and resonate once in a lifetime, yet which they just so happened to experience again and again and again.

It feels like the days between him and Kita, the space between midnight and sunrise, stretched between them as a routine. A series of encounters as certain as clockwork, letting words bloom naturally.

Ushijima places the kettle back on the nearby stool. He leans forward and presses a kiss to Oikawa’s lips, and whatever witty comeback Oikawa may have had dies on his lips. Ushijima then moves a few steps, leans forward, and lets Sakusa press his own cheek to Ushijima’s waiting lips. Finally he moves back to his seat, and places a gentle kiss on the crown of Kita’s head.

His heart feels full, and the world is full of color.

“...Did you continue the game without me?”

Sakusa grunts.

“You were taking too long Ushiwaka!”

“It was my idea. I’ll walk ya’ through what you missed, so don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Ushijima sighs, already noticing the fact that a few of his pieces have gone missing in the interlude.

“Very well, who’s turn is it?”


End file.
